I post a lot of TSE aesthetic and edits 🐍

.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.

At the beginning of the year, the Seol-il border had been reduced to a mass of ruin and destruction. Their military camps were destroyed, most soldiers had either fled or been killed, and the remaining ones were captured. The new battalions that were assembled in surrounding regions were reluctant to take off, afraid of facing imminent death. For now, they remained close by.

More and more civilians became willing to stand up against the government since the war broke out, even with the new decree being issued. A number of village residents in the territory had started raising the Angletonian flag in their homes, in favour of what the Empire offered: food, protection, and two most important things their own rulers failed to ensure; their lives and freedom.

A group of massive tanks packed with armed Angletonian soldiers were seen patrolling around the wasteland day and night. They had successfully claimed the border and now they wanted to show who was in charge.

"Civilians, your attention, please! We are carrying orders from the Emperor. The Seol-il border has fallen. This land is now under martial law. But fear not, for every countryman who surrendered and refused to participate in the war shall be unharmed," a soldier announced through a megaphone, which was later repeated in Seolian language.

In the Archambault fortress, a number of Seol-il nobilities gathered to seek an audience with the Emperor. Apparently, it wasn't only civilians who were affected by the war; the high lords had also taken a hard hit since they were contractually obligated to provide funds. Not much had been acquired from land rent, taxation, and loans, for months after the disaster. It was a shame to lose the fortune they had so auspiciously owned and maintained for generations.

"Kym Shion, are you quite sure about this?" Cal asked as he peered at the guests who were waiting for him downstairs.

"I am positive, Your Majesty," replied Kym Shion, who was still working undercover for him. "The nobles' loyalties are always fleeting. They would pander to any side that benefits them. In this case, it's ours. But I'd say we should still be careful with them in the future." Cal just nodded and began his descent.

All the lords stood up to greet him as he came down the stairs.

"Your Imperial Majesty," The group leader bowed deeply, followed by the others. "We have come here on the King's behalf to offer our sincere apology. This war has never been our intention."

"Yet it happens, doesn't it?" Cal raised his brows. "I thought I said only the King's apology would be accepted?"

The high lord coughed. "For that, we'd like to offer you some gifts."

He clapped twice and a group of lackeys came in to bring some wooden boxes containing gold coins, silverwares, ornate fabrics, and a huge palanquin.

Cal sneered as he scanned over the boxes. "I thought I made myself clear; until the King himself comes down and apologizes, these gifts-" Unraveling the curtain of the palanquin, he saw a young woman clad in a translucent garb. She lowered her head timidly upon seeing him, arm raising over her chest. "What on earth?"

"What's the meaning of this?" Philippe snarled.

"A special courtesy from us, Your Majesty. She's not just any serf, she belonged to the Princess; pure and untouched."

The curtain fell from Cal's fingers like it burned; anger scorching through his veins as he stormed over to the gift boxes and hurled them over the floor. He threw a few silver chalices and knives at the high lords, who all cowered out of shock and fear.

"This is exactly why I detest you people. This is exactly why it needs to be burned down!" He roared, pointing his fingers at the lords. "I will no longer go easy on you! I'm giving your King one last chance; declare defeat and pledge his loyalty to me. Abandon these abhorrent practices and rule with ethical values that are acceptable within the Empire! Surrender now, or keep his ass glued on that throne till I come to throw him off myself!"

"Y-Your Majesty..."

"Philippe!"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Philippe rushed to his side immediately.

"Take those boxes to the refugee shelters. I'm sure the people will be pleased to have their fortune back." Throwing one last disgusted glance at them, he proceeded to leave the hall.

A moment later, Philippe found Cal standing by the corner of a wall, shaking, arms enclosed around himself.

"Tu vas bien?" He grasped Cal's shoulders and Cal raised his head, eyes flaming with horror. "Cal, tu vas bien?"

He didn't answer.

***

"I think it's a reasonable offer." The high lord who had been in the audience with Cal spoke. "We shall be prosperous if united with the Angletonian Empire."

"You sought an audience with Leroy without my permission?" The elderly Seol-il King slammed the table with his fist.

"We could get a taste of their advanced military, and the international trades as well!" another added.

"How obvious of you leeches, to latch onto another host once you sense a better deal! Tsk, tsk..." The King leered at the nobles in the courtroom. "Haven't you forgotten who has kept you so rich over the generations?"

"And soon there will be nothing left if you keep us in this state. They've conquered the border, and the nearby regions will soon fall to their hands as well. They'll reach the capital in no time," the nobleman declared coldly. "Not only us will take the fall; Your Majesty would lose your crown as well."

"You dare threaten me? How can you call yourselves my servants?"

"I would sooner serve the Emperor."

"You filthy swine! After the war, I'll have you all hanged!" The King bellowed.

"Father!" a finely dressed adolescent girl barged into the room. "Is it true that my brothers are leaving for the war?"

"Leelian," the King smiled. "Don't worry yourself with such matters. It's men's business."

"It's not enough for them to take Chacha without my permission?" The Princess scowled over at the noblemen.

"Chacha?"

"My chambermaid, she was taken to the border as a gift to that Emperor! I want her back!"

"Oh, my daughter," the King chuckled. "She is only a slave."

February eleventh marked Gigi's twentieth birthday. This time around, she assured Cal there would be no huge parties or invites, but a small, intimate celebration with the family and closest friends. She was never a big party person, and it would help a lot more with her condition, being six months pregnant.

Her ladies-in-waiting, who were all dearly asked to join the celebration, had decorated their entire sitting room with balloons, ribbons and flowers in rose gold; Gigi's favourite colour. Gigi had always loved wearing all shades of peach and pink, for they brought out that rosy, blossoming effect that paired nicely to her complexion. But after wearing a dress in that colour on Cal's birthday she decided that she especially loved that particular shade.

Junior led Gigi into the room blindfolded in a sleeveless dress of the same shade. As she uncovered her eyes she gawked at the scene before her. Everything was lovely and exquisite, and she couldn't feel more appreciated and loved.

But nothing could rival the delight in her eyes as she saw her ladies walk through the door carrying a huge tray of Tumpeng; the tall, cone-shaped rice served for celebrations. Usually, the rice is coloured yellow from saffron, but this time they made it pink! It all felt so profound and personal.

As they sat together to unwrap the gifts, her handmaidens sat awkwardly on the couch. Gigi insisted although they'd much rather stand. Joséfina's gift was the first to go, and Gigi received a set of knitting essentials, with yarns in soft pastel colours.

"With the due date getting closer, I think you'd like a new pastime with the baby in mind," Joséfina said. "My grandmother used to make me hand-knitted hats and socks as a baby, and you can always use them to create something else."

"I had never even thought of it! I have never tried knitting before, but I would love to now!" Gigi squealed, clutching the pastel-coloured yarns in her hands. "Thank you, Joséfina! What a wonderful gift!"

Junior's gift was a large and heavy box, which turned out to be a set of baby board books. "You said you'd like me to read stories for the baby?" he reminded timidly.

"I would. They'd be so happy to have you reading for them. It's perfect." She kissed his hair as he curled up into his arms. She knew the best way to ignite Junior's interest in the baby was to involve them in activities that he'd enjoy.

"We also have another thing to give you." Gita Shinta handed Gigi another gift.

"But you girls have already given me a Tumpeng," Gigi blinked, utterly stunned. She felt bad that the girls might've felt obligated to buy her something off their wages while she just wanted them to celebrate with her.

"Please, the four of us have worked hard for it," added Gita Dian, nudging the gift over to Gigi.

Tearing off the wrappers, Gigi found a strip of hand-painted cloth. It was decorated with beautiful Prajan symbols and patterns signifying health and good fortune.

"It's a swaddling cloth, for the baby," Gita Citra said proudly.

"We know that you and His Majesty must've prepared the best clothes for the baby, but we wished that they would have something that reminds them... They always have a home beyond the sea."

Holding the cloth in her lap, Gigi slowly began tearing up. The girls were the ones who had always been there for her since the beginning, through her first difficult days in Angletonia. She could never repay them. "Thank you so much. I would never have made it this far without you."

"Oh don't cry, Milady. You'll be a mother soon, you must be strong," Gita Citra offered her a handkerchief.

The night was absolutely perfect. There was only one thing...

"Where's Papa?" Junior blurted suddenly.

It stunned Gigi into a momentary shock. They were halfway through and her husband wasn't here yet. "He said he's coming," she said nervously.

"Philippe told me they're coming. I'm sure they're on their way," Joséfina assured.

But even as they cut down the Tumpeng and enjoyed the delicacies, neither Cal nor Philippe had shown up at the door, making Gigi anxious and distressed. Would Cal really pass up on her birthday?

As if the sky had heard her prayers, the door opened to announce Philippe's arrival, along with a number of soldiers wheeling in a huge box wrapped in a satin pink bow.

Philippe cleared his throat. "Cal was called into an emergency meeting, and there was a big blizzard. He sent me along to deliver your birthday gift as an apology."

"Can't he make it before the night's out?" Junior faltered, and Philippe replied with a shake of his head.

Tears welled up in Gigi's eyes again, cradling her bump. "But... he said he was coming." She had imagined being wrapped in Cal's arms for the night; warm, after a month of her first freezing winter; with an unborn child but not her husband to stay at her side. "He's not doing this to me... He should be coming!"

"Why don't you open your gift first?" Philippe suggested. "S'il vous plaît?"

Gigi waved him away, cheeks shining with tears. There was no treasure; no amount of valuables or riches in this world that would be able to compensate for the disappointment that she was in right now.

Philippe gently nudged her toward the gift box, handing her a scissor to cut the ribbons. "After you open the gift box, I promise I'll kick the heck out of Cal's ass myself."

Sniffling, Gigi allowed her cousin-in-law to lead her toward the box. "Make sure to do it hard," she wept, before cutting the ribbon and uncovering the lid.

"Surprise!" Cal jumped out of the box, which then fell apart with an explosion of confetti, revealing a group of musicians who were also hiding inside and started playing the birthday jingle. "Happy birthday, darling!"

Seeing the scene unravelled before her eyes, Gigi only cried harder, retreating into a corner to hide. As he gathered her in his arms, she sobbed in his chest. "I thought you'd never come."

"I would never," Cal kissed her tears away. "Welcome to your twenties, my love."

***

It was a custom for Prajan women to hold a ceremonial right during the seventh month of their first pregnancy. It's called Mitoni, in which the mother-to-be is wrapped in seven layers of Batik cloth doused with water, to wish her good tidings. The elders in her husband's family were supposed to partake in the dousing, but since Cal had no other living relatives, Philippe and his family would step in to do the rites.

Coincidentally, it happened in the same month as Gigi and Cal's first anniversary, and so they planned to fuse both events.

Gigi stood before the massive window in her chambers that night, watching the last layer of snow dissolve from the ground. The air was chilly on her skin, clad only in her ivory satin nightgown, but she quite enjoyed it. A pair of warm hands suddenly came over, wrapping a blanket around her.

He pressed his lips in her hair. "Can't sleep?"

"Hardly a wink. Your child has chosen midnight as their party time, and I had to use the bathroom three times in the last hour." She pressed his palm against her belly, where the baby was kicking up a storm.

"I noticed. It seems they're doing the foxtrot down there," he chortled.

"Or practising horseback riding, judging by their father." She rested against his chest, taking in his scent as something came to mind. "Sire, you've not returned to Archambault for a while now. Is everything alright?"

"...Why? Would you rather if I go away?" came a frigid reply. But as she turned to see him, he appeared to be smiling warmly. "Don't you worry about that, darling. I've set my men on it."

"I mean, not that I'm complaining."

He patted her cheeks. "Now try to get some sleep, the ceremony will start early in the morning."

"It's been a year, Sire, since that day." She turned to the window again, eyes closed. The corner of her lips twitched as emotions built up behind the lids. "And yet, I can still feel like it was yesterday, I remember... everything."

His arms tightened around her, and Gigi knew right away what's going through his mind. "It was really bad, how I treated you-"

"I regret nothing." She turned around, staring right at him. "I'm glad I boarded that ship that day. The feel of Angletonian ground under my feet, the tightness in my chest as I rode through the crowd to see my husband for the first time... Those are the memories that I cherish; because they led me to you."

Cal brushed his fingers through her hair, barely keeping himself altogether as his eyes spoke louder than words.

"It was a tough road, but it was worth fighting for. I'd go back in time and do it all over again, a million times I'd do it. Because I love you, I love you so much..."

Their bodies collided together in a tight embrace, and Cal wept quietly into her hair.

"It's kind of you to mind my struggles, yet cruel enough to dismiss your own." She broke the embrace to look at his eyes. "We fought together. You fought for us too."

The clock rang, marking the start of another day. Gigi cupped his face in her palms. "Happy anniversary, Cal."

"Happy anniversary, Gi." Cal sealed the gap between them with a fervent kiss. "I love you, darling. You are the treasure that I never sought. You made me the happiest man alive. I'll spend every breath to keep that smile on your face. I adore you so much, and- I can't wait, oh I can't wait to live our future with our children."

Sweeping her off her feet, she flung an arm around his neck, laughing as he spun her around.

"That future begins today."

The King was pacing around his private quarters as he heard a knock at his door.

"Come in."

A man in his early twenties walked in, offering his salutations to the King. "You asked for me, Your Majesty?"

"Secure those doors, a lot of ears around here."

With a curious glance, the man locked the door behind him, taking a seat before the King.

Having the doors secured, the King appeared to be more relaxed. "I have good news. It appears we are winning the war."

The young man's face brightened. "Are we really?"

"The Angletonian forces are retreating. It seems they have lost their supplies over the winter," he cackled. "I knew making them wait out in the cold would exhaust them."

"What about that slimy snake?"

"Leroy was very adamant with his threats, and yet he appears to be preoccupied with his pregnant wife. He hasn't taken any courses in two months. I doubt he actually has the strength to act out on it. He must've been bluffing."

"Congratulations, Your Majesty." The man saluted him once more. "May I know the reason why you requested my presence?"

"I suspect we have a traitor inside the palace. I'd like you to find that person. We'll drag him down and kill him along with those parasitic lords after the war's over." The King stared at him. "Can you do it?"

"You won't be disappointed in me, Your Majesty. It's my life's duty to serve the dynasty."

"I like your spirit, that's why I picked you for Leelian." The King laughed. "But remember, you must be very careful, Eugene."

***

"Long long ago, in the land of Praja, there was a kingdom. It was led by a king who was very wise. The people under his rule loved and respected him because he made their lives prosperous."

Gigi and Junior were enjoying a read-along in the afternoon. It wouldn't be long before the baby arrived, so they liked to spend more time in the nursery. Despite having a fully prepared baby bed and furniture, the room was still mostly coated in neutral colours since Gigi decided that they would only start customizing after the baby was born.

"The King had quite a number of children, one of whom was a Princess named Kandita. A very beautiful girl, who was as softhearted and kind as her father. He loved the Princess very much, and as she got older he selected her to be the future heir to the throne," Junior recited loudly in Prajan, leaning toward the baby bump.

There were soft knockings on the door, and Cal entered.